It's all Rachel's fault
by absolutely-enraptured
Summary: Damn that man, and damn his mohawk and his muscles and his voice that sent shivers down her spine—and sent warmth to other places—every time she heard it.


Rachel Berry was walking up the pathway to Noah Puckerman's house; a place she knew that she shouldn't be but couldn't help herself. She had to ask him if Finn was cheating her, he had been distant lately and he had been hanging out with a blonde cheerleader far too often as of lately.

Rachel was not completely ignorant of the consequences of her actions but she needed Puck's advice just this once. He was Finn's closest friend and he would tell her if her suspicions were true.

In any case, she strode up to Puck's door and rung the doorbell. No answer. She pressed it again. Nothing.

She reached for the knob and to her surprise, it twisted open. Tentatively, she peered inside, the lights were on and the remnants of a half-eaten pizza were left on the coffee table in his living room.

Rachel, knowing curiosity killed the cat, was still tempted to enter the house. Of course, after debating how little her curiosity had ever harmed her, she entered.

She had been here just once or twice before, but nevertheless she knew the pathway to Puck's room, she hoped her wouldn't wave away her presence like an intruder. The door to his bedroom was slightly ajar and she continued forward, her fist against the wooden door, ready to knock.

But her knuckles still on the wood, resting heavily against the frame as though she had slipped into stasis, she was frozen, a statue. As an afterthought she realized that she probably should have announced her presence before she went to his room. She was hidden by the door but she could still see into the room. It was there she stood as her eyes found him, her mouth dropping open immediately when she saw that he was shirtless and undoing his belt.

Okay, Rachel was not, in any way, unfamiliar with the penis. So sure, the only one she'd ever seen in person was Finn's, but she'd seen diagrams and a picture…or two. The point was that she knew of its existence.

Anyway, Puck had ear-buds in his ears, blasting some god-forsaken, loud rock music and had succeeded in removing his belt. Socks, gone. Pants, gone.

Now, Rachel Berry was of sound state of mind but for whatever the reason, she could not move from where she was hidden behind the door, all thoughts of cheating boyfriends behind her.

Puck finally removed his boxers and then he was naked. Completely, totally nude. But Rachel's mind wasn't focused on that, it was focused on the fact that he was _hard_ and that...well, if she were being perfectly honest, Noah was huge.

More than average.

Bigger than Finn.

A strategically-placed pair of boxers awaited him on his bed, but he didn't reach for them. Her mind was roaring at her to leave, just go and pretend she'd never even been here but her heart had leaped into her throat and her limbs felt too heavy to move.

Her knees quivered and she gripped the wall with anxiety-nimbled fingers. _She _was __really, really__ overstaying her welcome.

Maybe this was just a nightmare, an insane, illogical nightmare. Because dammit it all, Rachel Berry did not ever, ever think about Noah Puckerman in this particular way. Okay, maybe once, or twice.

But within reality, Rachel remembered this was no dream, she was truly standing, mesmerized in the doorway of Noah Puckerman's room, watching him.

Slowly, his hand began traveling south and felt warmth rush to _her_ south and pool in between her thighs. She had to get out of here. She should just go and befriend the empty space. And just be away. For a while.

As if detecting her presence, he stopped and whirled around, narrowing his eyes at the doorway. He may have sensed her presence but there was no way he could see her, it was too dark and shadowy in this hallway, at most he could probably make out a shadow.

She surfaced from her daze, and she fled, out of the hallway, out of the house and didn't stop running until she reached her house.

Damn that man, and damn his mohawk and his muscles and his voice that sent shivers down her spine—and sent warmth to other places—every time she heard it.

She could not ever be alone with Noah again, and never, EVER, EVER mention that she had, in fact, seen the mohawked glee club member in the buff. And lastly, she could never go over to his house again. Not even if he asked. Especially if he asked.

She repeated this list of things she was no longer allowed to do—under any circumstances—in her mind over and over.

What had she done? Had she fallen for Puck? Why couldn't she yearn for the sweet simplicity of untroubled waters with Finn, a man who offered her everything she could want aside from the love of the person she truly wanted to be with?

She was a coward.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Puck had no choice but to face his feelings for Rachel and face them he did. He was in love with her and the weight of that crashed down on him and every time he glanced at her he couldn't breathe properly.

It was not even his fault. He didn't actually mean to feel this way. It was Rachel's fault. She was playing a game of cat-and-mouse with him, he was sure of it. All short skirts and suggestive dance moves and smiles with double-meanings. And each time she would win, adding a point to her ever growing score in the game she didn't know she was participating in.

He had no idea what to do about this, he was an action man but there was nothing for him to do about this was there? He didn't know what he should be feeling right now, he just knew the sight of her being with Finn made guilt and disgust gnaw at his insides like something horrible and deadly.

These were feelings he should bury, like deep down where no one would ever, ever find them. The longer he could avoid telling her the truth, the better.

When Rachel got back with Finn, he had convinced himself that she was out of his reach, permanently. So why did he still feel like this? What was he supposed to do? What could he do?

God, he wanted to have her, and not just in a sexual,_ I-want-to-fuck-you_ kind of way, but the kind of need that swarmed in your heart and felt like an open wound.

He hadn't been this hard in a long time, it was like he was a fucking preteen all over again. Or worse, it was like he was Finn, who couldn't control his 'standing ovations'.

He knew that Rachel practiced in the choir room most days after school and he had to confront her. He had to stop beating himself up about not telling her. He wouldn't be a coward, not anymore. So, he barged into the choir room and Rachel looked up at him with wide eyes.

She just gawked at him with an uncomfortable stare. What was that, fear in her eyes? "What are you doing here, Puckerman?" She accused sharply.

"Hello to you, too," He snorted. Now or never. "Look, Rachel, I have to tell you—"

"Can this wait?" She cut him off. "Is this important? Because I'm in the middle of practicing and—"

"It's important." _Come on, Puckerman, get your shit together, just tell her that you love her_."You're avoiding me." _Coward._ When she opened her mouth to disagree, he swept on, heedless. "You are. I don't know what I did, Berry, but I deserve to know."

Shame burned across her cheeks and she shook her head. "I'm not. So, I'd appreciate it if you left me to my music—"

"I'm going to wait as long as it takes," He said, and her eyes caught his unexpectedly, her eyelids fluttered nervously. A raise of his brow and a tensing of his lips, was all he could give her in return. "Come on."

Rachel desperately wished that she could be transparent, a breeze.

"You can't just ignore me and expect me to—"

"I saw your penis!" She blurted.

Then there was a silence. Which went on for a long while.

She had a written out a whole in her head just in case she ever had to have this conversation with him but as soon as he confronted her, the speech flew out of her mind and what came out wasn't exactly well put together.

She had become a shade of deep red while Puck stared at her, slack-jawed.

"When...was this?" He spoke slowly.

"I went to your house and the door was open, you were getting changed and I saw your penis," She just plowed through, eyes shut.

He sat there for a moment. Well, fuck. He could not deal with a Rachel that was talking about seeing his penis and being this hot and this adorable, and so fucking innocent. And who apparently had no idea that he was more or less in love with so bad that he couldn't even see straight.

"Look, Rachel, I lied before. I didn't come here to know why you're avoiding me," He was saying before he could stop himself. "I want you. Hell, you know I'm not good at all of this 'feelings' bullshit but I love you."

Now, she was the one in the silent coma, with Puck sitting beside her, the kept man left waiting, waiting for her to rise out of her permanent slumber. But before she could speak, he had disappeared through the door.

* * *

><p>Puck's call came so late at night that Rachel almost said no.<p>

"Rachel, give me ten minutes of your time, okay?_"_ Puck had said. "I need to talk to you._" _He was begging. She could hear it in his voice. And Noah Puckerman never begged.

Before she realized she was doing so it, Rachel had risen from bed, and she was rummaging through her closet for something to put on. She shimmied into a short, floral skirt, and slipped on a cream-colored blouse.

__What are you doing, Rachel?__ she asked herself, staring at her image in the mirror. She glanced at the clock.

She wouldn't keep him waiting.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

After taking the longest route to Puck's house, just to stall, Rachel parked her car and knocked on Puck's door. She knew his mother worked the late shift at the hospital so she didn't have to use any means of sneaking around.

He arrived at the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. He ushered her inside and she opted to sit in the living room instead of going to his room to talk. She took a shuddering breath.

He had only called her here to tell her that he hadn't meant any of the shit he'd said earlier so that he needn't feel too guilty. He wanted to be there for her, wanted to witness her relationship with Finn grow, and to see himself being happy for them and saying certain things at certain junctures later on in their relationship like–__Congratulations, Rach, your fiance's a great guy___._ And maybe that would make up for his current behavior and thoughts, make him seem more noble.

He looked at her with a wry smile, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted to compose himself**.** "Rachel, what I said earlier was just...whatever, it doesn't even matter."

Only a moment's hesitation blinked back her response, "I broke up with Finn."

"You...what?"

"We broke up," She mumbled.

"Well, I'm sorry," He meant to say, only when he opened his mouth to speak he couldn't get the words out and then, somehow, and Puck ended up kissing her and he's not sure but he suspected he might have let out a whimper.

Rachel went still – really, totally still, not even breathing. He pulled back, eyes wide, what the fuck did he just do? He wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen next, but getting slapped seemed like a reasonable outcome of his actions. He knew what he wanted to happen but that was about as likely as Mr. Schue deciding to incorporate Sue into one of their dances numbers. No way was Rachel going to suddenly opt for being with him again. No way in hell.

All he could now do was wait for her reaction and deal with it.

Rachel watched him hesitantly, tempted beyond all reasoning to kiss him again. But what would that mean for them? But she could already her pulse throbbing between her legs and Rachel was beyond caring. She was done restraining herself. Puck was looking at her with dilated eyes, and oh man, that was just _it_.

To hell with it.

And that was it. Really, it was. Her quiet resolve crumbled, and she reached for him then and crushed their lips together. Suddenly, all restraint and control was lost, and each of them reached for the other, their bodies melding into one as their lips met. They were kissing, finally, after God knows how many days and hours of lost sleep and tip-toeing around each other and feeling like a complete idiots about each other.

She let Puck pull her into his lap, and it felt _awesome_, she could readily admit it. And then one by one, their shirts fell to the floor. She moaned in delight as he kissed at the exposed flesh on her chest, and in return, dug her nails into his back, scraping tan skin.

When he drew back for the briefest of moments, her question was clear in her gaze. _What are you waiting for? _Then Puck had backed her against a wall, his hands hiking her skirt up around her waist. Her breasts crushed against his hard chest and they both drew in a sharp breath.

After a exhilarating second of astonishment that this was really happening, she helped unbutton his pants and lower his boxers. He was just as big as she remembered, bigger if she thought about it so she didn't. He was never going to fit.

She hadn't had sex since that first time with Finn when she'd lost her virginity in a clumsy tumble. A little maneuvering and he was in her, Rachel couldn't recall the last time she'd ever heard him say _fuck_ that many times. There was a slight sting of pain making her gasp, he filled her up so much more quickly and fully than when Finn did it. He was so big and how would she ever…how could she...

But thankfully, Puck had begun to move while she was thinking frantically, making the pleasure start to build and she fell into sync with him. A grin danced on his lips, her legs wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening around him.

Before long, she cried out and clutched onto him, hearing him moaning her name.

An hour later, they had finally found their way to his bed, which had been previously avoided for other pieces of furniture like tables and counters, and Rachel was stretched out lazily atop his form.

"I'm tired."

He smirked, letting a chuckle pass his lips. "After all that, I bet you are."

Resting her chin upon his chest, she laughed. "You're so full of yourself, Puckerman."

He sighed with a smile. "Just go to sleep." He brushed a lock of her hair back. "Don't think. Just lie here with me and sleep for a while."

"All right," She mumbled sleepily, and put her head back down on Puck's chest.

Her lips pursed, teeth digging into the soft flesh before her lower lip opens to let the breath from her lungs escape, and he wrapped her arms around her. Soon, her weight pressed into his chest more thoroughly; she was sleeping. He fell asleep, listening to her rise and fall of her chest. This was all still her fault though, not his, not even a little bit.


End file.
